


Promises of River Cam

by SteveninRavenclaw



Category: Maurice (1987)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:08:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25156747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteveninRavenclaw/pseuds/SteveninRavenclaw
Summary: The water of River Cam continued running, as it had been in the last thousands of years. It must have reflected millions of promises of young lovers. "Do you still remember ours?" Hall murmured.
Relationships: Clive Durham/Maurice Hall
Kudos: 21





	Promises of River Cam

The sky was crystal blue, as if having bathed in the deep dark ocean, washed out of all the impurity. A few clouds were hanging on the blue velvet, changing shapes with the mild touch of wind.

Centuries old bricks and stones formed a magnificent architecture, an art piece and melody flowing throughout the history of glory and decay. They stood still, quietly observing the joy and sorrow of the people, who had sitted on the green grassland, talking and laughing.

A river, arriving with her own dignity and grace, gently meandered through the campus of Cambridge. She sauntered like an old wise lady, danced with the footsteps of spring, curved around the shining stone bridge immersed in the sunlight of dusk and dawn, and she witnessed the joining and parting of romance, love and memory.

If you would walk along the bank of this river, you could see the trails of poetry that generations of poets had left behind. The golden willows by the riverside, are brides in the setting sun, reflected in the shimming river, stirring your mind and soul. Go upstream to where grass is greener, fill your boat with starlight and the silenced sound of cricket. The sound, the view, everything fascinated you, leading you to where the river was, is and will be.

It wasn't Hall's first time to come back here after graduation. But every time he saw the flowing water, a sense of passion and youth would dawn on him, despite his now white hair dyed by the passage of time and wrinkled skin made by the drift of joy and sorrow.

He lay down on the bank, as he did 45 years ago, when, he made a secret promise to his lover, one that he knew was never left behind by the ever shining sprays of river Cam. The words echoed, under the stone bridge surrounded by colorful flowers, on the brown hedge by the riverside, and deep deep within his young and beating heart.

The water continued running, as it had been in the last thousands of years. It must have reflected millions of promises of young lovers. "Do you still remember ours?" Hall murmured.

But nobody answered, except for some partridges twittering on the branch of a dying pine tree.


End file.
